


auld lang syne

by weatheredlaw



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 02:30:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5317154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Cassandra is a department store elf, Varric plays the Santa, and everyone figures out that being friends with benefits around the holidays is a very bad idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	auld lang syne

**Author's Note:**

> LIKE I NEED ANOTHER FUCKING PROJECT BUT  
> WHATEVER

Varric is the fourth Santa in as many weeks, and Cassandra doesn’t like him. There is nothing particularly offensive about him, save his mouth – the words that come out of it, not the shape or appearance by any means, because Cassandra hasn’t looked and wouldn’t dream of doing so. He is good with the children, friendly to the staff, and charming, no matter how Cassandra feels. He’s professional, on time, and entertaining.

But Cassandra simply _doesn’t_ enjoy him.

Which is truly a pity, because he seems to enjoy her quite a bit.

“You’re my right hand elf today, huh? I had someone different last week,” he says, sipping his coffee. The fake beard hangs around his neck, the hat stuffed between the coat and belt, and he is smiling at her. It’s far too early in the morning for that.

“I am one of your helpers,” she says, even though the actual sound of the words coming out of her own mouth makes her want to vomit. In the five years she’s worked at the Royeaux Department Store, Cassandra has been an elf every Christmas. She isn’t sure why – there are several _actual_ elves who work at the store. Each holiday season, many of them don the same atrocious outfit and stand by Santa’s Workshop, or direct parents to different toy aisles. For as long as Cassandra has been in retail, it’s the same bullshit every year.

She’s heard it said, and often feels the same way – there’s nothing like a corporate holiday to really bring everyone together.

“You’re not an elf,” Varric says.

“And you are not a human.”

“There’s no evidence to suggest Santa Claus wasn’t a _little_ bit dwarfy,” he argues. Cassandra straightens up, holding a stuffed bear by its neck in her hands. Varric raises an eyebrow. “You make those tights look good.”

“I believe you’re needed in the workshop,” she says.

Varric turns, spotting Josephine coming out of the staff room, looking around for him as she flips through the papers on her clipboard. “Ah, well. To work, then…”

She sighs. “It is Cassandra.” She hasn’t put on her nametag yet.

It lights up, and she detests it.

“ _Cassandra._ Shit that’s a mouthful.”

“You should hear all fifteen of her _other_ names,” someone says behind her.

Varric chuckles. “Dorian, right?”

“The very same.”

“Well, I’ll figure the rest out later then, huh Cass?”

“It is _Cassandra_ ,” she snaps, but he’s snapping the beard into place and tossing his empty cup as Josephine spots him. “ _Ugh._ ”

Dorian leans against the fake wall of the workshop. “He’s rather handsome, don’t you think?”

“I do not.”

“I wonder how long he’ll last.” Cassandra shrugs, dropping the teddy bear into its display. “Oh, come now. You can’t tell me you don’t care a _little._ ”

“I don’t.”

Dorian huffs. “I believe you, you know. Completely heartless. You’ve no holiday spirit _what_ soever.”

Cassandra folds her arms over her chest until Dorian throws his hands in the air and wanders off to his usual place in the doll section.

Josephine takes his place in front of her and says, “You could be a _bit_ more cheerful, Cassandra. It never hurts.”

“I will do my best.”

Josephine sighs. “You always do,” she admits. “I know it has been…frustrating. But, Varric should be a more permanent figure here for the rest of the season. And he is very happy to be here.”

Cassandra follows her gaze to the inside of the workshop, where Varric is already greeting children and bending down to listen to them. In that moment, he very much looks the part, and looks pleased to be doing it.

Cassandra feels the tiniest twinge, perhaps in her left ventricle, and adjusts her skirt.

And to his credit, Varric is perhaps the best Santa they’ve had in the store as long as Cassandra’s worked there. He plays his part with enthusiasm and gusto. The children adore him, that much is obvious. Like most of the Santas she’s met, Varric flirts and teases, winks when no one is looking, and calls Cassandra “sweetheart.”

It is cloying, saccharine, and _ridiculous_ –

But it is working. Just a bit.

After each child has told Santa what they want, Cassandra’s job is to pin a small bunch of holly leaves and berries to their coat or scarf, and to do it with a smile.

This is probably the first time she is happy to do it – and she isn’t going to credit the dwarf, because she is more than capable of enjoying her work without his help, but it certainly doesn’t hurt to have him there.

“Last one, sweetheart?” Varric asks, glancing at the now-empty queue in front of them. A solitary child remains, a little girl in a red hat. Her mother is an elf, her father a human.

“It certainly is, Santa,” Cassandra says, and reaches into the basket for one last holly bouquet.

“Wonderful.” Varric places the little girl on his lap, glancing up at her parents. “Well, these are familiar faces.”

“Oh no, Santa.” The woman positively _beams_. “We’ve never met _you_ before, have we, love?”

Her husband shakes his head. “Definitely not. Beth, tell Santa what you’d like so we can get home. Uncle Carver’s coming into town tonight.”

Beth turns and looks up at Varric, her eyes sparkling. He puts a hand on her shoulder and leans in close. “Tell me what you’d like for Christimas, Beth.” She glances over at her parents and tips her head up, whispering into Varric’s ear. He nods. “I’ll see what I can do about that, little miss. Up you get.” He smiles and she slides off his leg. “My best elf over here has a gift for you, for being such a good girl today,” Varric says.

He _winks._

Cassandra is distracted for a moment, then feels the insistent tug of a child’s hand on her blouse. “Oh! Oh, here you are, my dear. For you.” The girl watches Cassandra all the while as she carefully pins the holly bouquet to her blue peacoat before giving it a little tap. “Perfect.”

The girl smiles. “You’re very pretty,” she says, and turns to run back to her parents. They’re obviously friends of Varric’s, laughing as little Beth runs up to them. Her father scoops her up in his arms.

“Have a good night, Var – _ow!_ ” The mother elbows him. “Ah, _Santa._ You have a nice evening then.”

“Goodbye, Santa!” Beth waves both her arms at him. Varric waves his hands back.

“Goodbye, Beth!” He chuckles, watching to go before he finally collapses into the chair with a groan. “Shit.”

“Very good,” Josephine chirps. “A _very_ good day all around. You did yet another wonderful job, Varric.”

“Eh, I like kids,” he says simply, tugging off the beard and hat. “Had good help today, too.” He grins. Cassandra busies herself with storing the rest of the holly bouquets for tomorrow. Her cheeks are hot, and she is growing increasingly uncomfortable in her outfit while he helps put things away. They’ll return early in the morning to reorganize the displays and make sure everything is set.

“If Cassandra is not opposed to it she will be your assistant for the rest of the week,” Josephine says. Her tone does not indicate that Cassandra is _allowed_ to be opposed to it, but she agrees anyway.

“It’s no trouble,” she says.

“ _Excellent._ ” Josephine sighs. “Well, we have had a successful day. I will see everyone tomorrow, then. Bright and early!” She reaches into the pocket of her dress and pulls out her keys. “Cassandra, if you would lock up, that would be greatly appreciated.”

“Of course.”

“Goodnight, Varric.”

“Goodnight, Josephine.” He watches her go and then turns back to Cassandra. “Well. I’ve gotta go get out of this before I want to kill myself. _Shit_ it’s hot.”

Cassandra swallows. “Of course.”

“Ah, wait for me? Before you lock up?” He glances around. “Are we it?”

“Nope.” Dorian walks up, shrugging on his coat. “Well, you are _now._ Cassandra, love, we’re getting drinks later if you’d like to join us. You, too, Varric.”

“I’m in,” Varric says, looking at her expectantly. Cassandra shrugs.

“She never commits to yes or no,” Dorian mutters. “And then she never shows up. You could just say, ‘No, Dorian, I detest socializing.’”

“I do not _detest_ socializing. I detest bars.”

Dorian sighs. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where we’ll be. Elliot’s,” he says to Varric. “Just across the street.”

“Sounds like a plan.” They watch Dorian leave, standing awkwardly in front of one another.

Cassandra clears her throat. “I need to check the storeroom before I go.”

“Sera never does that when we close up together.”

“Sera hardly does anything,” Cassandra points out, though that’s not really true. Sera works very hard, and does her job proficiently. She hates closing because she hates being in charge of things. Cassandra tends to pick up the slack while Sera does things like _this_ – handing out holly berries to children and letting Santa call her “sweetie.”

“I’ll meet you in the store room then?” Varric gives her a thumbs up and heads off to change. Cassandra nearly groans in relief when he’s out of her sight – she’s starting to get very warm and very jittery. She needs to get home, have a cup of tea, and sort all this out before bed. She fumes all the way to the store room – an entire _week_ that dwarf has been here, and she’s been able to dislike him casually from afar. Stuck beside him all day, listening to his rich, low timbre, watching him be _kind_ and good and genuine – it makes the heat between her legs nearly unbearable as she closes the storeroom door behind her and swallows, closing her eyes and standing under the AC for a moment before she begins her walk through the aisles, making sure they haven’t run low of anything for the displays.

Cassandra hears the door open and shut again as she checks off the last section, makes a few notes, and signs off on the order

“So are you like a junior boss around here?” Varric says behind her.

Cassandra shakes her head. “No. I have worked here the longest.”

“How long is that?”

“Five years.”

Varric raises a brow. “High turnover, huh?”

“Yes,” she says simply, and moves past him to put the clipboard on the desk.

“Hey.” Varric grabs her wrist and Cassandra _flinches_ – his touch is hot, and it doesn’t _fix_ her problem. “Ah, shit, sorry—”

“You’re fine.”

“No, you didn’t like that. I shouldn’t have—”

Cassandra holds up her hand. “It is…not what you think.”

Varric frowns. “It’s not…bad?”

“No, it’s not bad,” she says. “I need to get my coat.”

Varric looks her up and down. “You’re going to wear that out?”

“I’m going _home_ ,” she says. “It hardly matters.”

“No, I mean. You’re going to wear it all the way _home_.”

“I have a car.”

He swallows. “You’re going to wear it out of the store and across the parking lot. To your car. And then you’ll…you’ll take it off at _home._ ”

Cassandra feels her neck grow hot. “That is the general idea,” she says quietly. Her discomfort is no longer such a simple thing – it borders on obscene _arousal_ , and if he opens his mouth to say another word, she’s going to shut him up the only way she knows how.

“ _Shit_ ,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “You don’t make this easy,” he mutters.

“Make what easy?”

“This whole ‘no fraternizing’ thing.”

“No,” she says. “I certainly do not.”

And then she grabs him by the lapels of his coat – and kisses him.

It’s an odd space to be intimate with someone. Cassandra knows where the cameras are, knows that they are in a blind spot, so long as they remain where they are. She pushes Varric into the chair and immediately drops to her knees. He looks down at her.

“You, uh, you don’t—”

“ _Shut up_ ,” she snaps, and frees his cock from his slacks. It’s half-hard, and hot in her hands. Cassandra strokes it carefully before leaning forward and pressing her lips to one side of the shaft. Varric groans.

“ _Fuck._ ”

With practiced ease, Cassandra opens her mouth and slides her tongue over the length before finally wrapping her entire mouth around him. Varric jerks in surprise, but Cassandra remains committed to the task at hand. Varric slides a hand into her hair, pulling every so often. Cassandra hums as she sucks, and that sets him off again, swearing and bucking into her mouth. He gasps when she pulls off, only to moan when she swallows him down again.

Her tights are going to be dirty, and they’ll be a pain to wash – but it’s worth it.

“I’m gonna come, _shit_ ,” he mutters, pushing her off of him.

“You can, it’s fine—”

“I want to fuck you,” he says, looking her right in the eyes. Cassandra nods and Varric pulls her closer, shoving their mouths together again. He slides his hands under the scratchy green skirt, searching for the waistband of her tights and yanking them down. “These are, uh—” He clears his throat. “They’re tight.”

“It’s fine,” she says, shoving them down to her knees. Her mouth stays on his, kissing him between words. The chair isn’t really wide enough for her to properly sit in his lap, but he clasps his hands under her thighs and holds her up as she drags a hand between her legs and then strokes his cock.

“You’re so fucking _wet_ ,” he mutters. “How long have you been thinking about this?”

Cassandra shudders and sinks down onto him with a moan. Varric’s hands tighten on her thighs and her muscles _burn._

“All day,” she pants, putting her hands on either of his shoulders to give herself more leverage. “ _Fuck_ —”

“Say that again.”

“Y-you want me to…to _swear_?” Cassandra says, breath coming in noisy, labored gasps. Varric nods and pushes his hips _up_ , hard, and Cassandra cries out. “ _Fuck!_ ” After that, she can’t seem to stop herself. Over and over, each thrust has her shouting, has her swearing more in a span of fifteen seconds than she does on a weekly basis.

It’s been a long time.

“I need to come,” he says. She nods, sliding their mouths together, nipping at his bottom lip. “Shit, come on, just a little more, almost there, _almost there_ —” He moans, both arms coming to wrap around her waist and hold her close as he comes, mouth open against her cheek before he drops his forehead to her sternum. “ _Shit._ ”

Cassandra’s legs tremble. She nods as she maneuvers herself off of him, grabbing a tissue from the desk and cleaning the inside of her thighs.

“Hey.” Varric stops her before she reaches down to pull up her tights. She’ll need to throw this pair away – they have a terrible wet spot and a dozen runs. “You’re not leaving here until you let me say thanks.”

“It’s not necessary,” she manages, even though her entire body is _humming_ , desperate for release. “I’ll be fine—” Varric cuts her off with a kiss before backing her up against the desk and pushing his hand down the front of her tights. “ _Oh—_ ”

“Fair’s fair.” Cassandra can only nod in agreement as he pushes three fingers inside her, _easy_ , and strokes her clit with his thumb. “You wanna come?”

“ _Yes, yes_ —”

“Come on, you’re close, I know you are.” Cassandra whimpers, rolls her hips against him. It only takes a few more seconds of his teasing for her to come, her shout echoing in the room.

It’s a few minutes before she can breathe like a normal person again, gasping into the cold air of the storeroom and staring at him.

“That was hot,” he finally says, pulling his fingers away and cleaning them off.

“Ah, yes. It…yes.”

“We should probably get your coat, huh?”

“Mmhm.” Cassandra fixes her skirt and tights, leading him out of the room and toward the staff lounge. She grabs her coat and ushers him out the door, locking it behind her.

“That was good, Holly Berry.”

“ _What?_ ”

“No? Not a good nickname?”

“Terrible.”

“Huh. I think it sort of works.”

“You could call me by my name,” she mutters, walking toward her car.

Varric shrugs. “We’ll see. Have a good night,” he says, and pulls her down for a kiss.

It throws Cassandra off, for a moment, before she sighs, kissing him back and feeling his hand give her ass a gentle squeeze.

“See you tomorrow,” he murmurs, and pulls back with a grin. Cassandra swallows.

“I…yes. Tomorrow.” She nods, watching him pull on his coat and head across the street to the bar. She tempted, for only a moment, to follow him. The second the door opens, she hears the music and sounds of everyone winding down after a long day – she certainly could use a drink at this rate.

But she’s in her costume, and her costume is filthy because she couldn’t control herself around that… _maddeningly_ charming dwarf for more than a single shift.

Not that she doesn’t find him…handsome. Or talented. He certainly is. She bites her lip and unlocks her car, sliding inside.

No, she needs to go home, fix dinner, and go to bed.

Her legs are going to be sore in the morning.


End file.
